Uke in denial
by Thisissecret
Summary: France thinks the world is lacking love and persuades everyone to take the legendary Seme/uke test in an attempt to help the nations find that special someone. This proves especially helpful when a certain uke doesn't want to submit to his fate. US x UK


A/N: Happy (late) valentines day!

This is what happens when I decide to take a seme/uke test just after a Hetalia-personality thingy... -.-''

I'm assuming that everyone already knows this, but just in case, the seme is the dominant partner in a (yaoi xD) relationship whilst the uke is submissive.

_Warnings:_ US x UK, Drunken-Uke!England, hints/mentions of Germany x Italy and France x Canada, OOC:ness and mild swearing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or semeuke (dot) com.... (grumble)

**Edit 27 feb. 2010** - most of the typos should be gone now ;)

-

"And so, to conclude," England announced, leaving a dramatic pause for extra effect. "The best way to solve the current economic crisis is too–"

"_Bonjour!_"

The room fell silent and every nation in the room turned to the (incredibly late) France as he waltzed through the entrance. Francis, clueless as ever, didn't notice the glares and unspoken war declarations he was recieving as he barged across the floor, right up to England, who happened to be in the center of the stage.

The Briton was not amused.

"Ah, England! How are you on this fine day?" the Frenchman asked in heavily accented English, leaning close to him. England quickly pulled away.

"Touch me and die," he growled warningly. "You're _two _hours late, ya' bloody git! _Two!_ And you are interruptingmy talk! A very important talk, might I add!"

France stared at him with a very serious look for a long while, before cracking a smile. "Ah, don't worry, I have found something fun for us all to do!" He clapped his hands together, looking ready to burst into song.

"Francis, we are in the middle of an _important_ meeting! You where late, so just take a seat and _shut up_!" Arthur fumed, eyes twitching slightly. Much to his annoyance, the Frenchman ignored him.

"Now, now, thats not the way you speak to _moi_!" he scolded. "In front of the entire G8, no less! How very rude, I expected more from you, _gentleman,_" Francis sighed, emphasizing the last word to further mock the Brit.

"There's only five people listening!" England argued. "And I was speaking! _You _are the rude one for interrupting! So go and sit_ down_!"

A whisper, though it could have been the wind whistling outside, carried the words "A_ctually, there's six listening" _through the room. It was rather creepy, but no one commented out of fear of angering the possibly evil presence.

"But I have prepared something for us~" the Frenchman wined, eyes widening in mock-hurt.

"And what would that thing be?" The question came from Germany, who seemed less than pleased with the hole situation.

"I'm glad you asked! You see, while you were being lazy last night–"

"– Preparing for this bloody meeting!" England coughed in a not-so-discreet manner.

"–I found something we could do to get to know each other better! Sounds fun, _non_?"

"Look, we haven't got time for your nonsense!" England fumed, resisting the urge to punch the man in the face. A real accomplishment on his part, really.

"But England~" France whined, producing a rose from out of nowhere. "Today is _St. Valentin_! The most romantic day of the year! The day when all lovers–"

"I. Don't. Care," England hissed, interrupting whatever Francis had been about to say.

The rest of the room were silent, observing the age old routine. There was nothing anyone could do about it, the two would bicker until one gave in and then the rest of the countries could continue on from there.

"But Iggy!" France complained "It will be _fun_! And it will give you a chance to meet that special someone! On the day of love! Wouldn't that be romantic?"

"Don't call me that!" Arthur spat. "And I don't _need _anyone, thank you very much," he growled, cheeks gaining a slight pink flush.

"No need get all touchy about being lonely. I bet you could have _anyone_ if you did something with those eyebrows of yours. I could give you the number to my stylist."

England was going to open is mouth to protest, but someone beet him to it.

"There's nothing wrong with Iggy's eyebrows!"

Everyones attention turned to America. "What?" the man grumbled, quirking an eyebrow at their confused expressions.

Luckily, England thought, with everyones faces turned to the US, no one noted that his face had grown even darker then earlier. He was not blushing though. Absolutely not. It was just... very warm in here. Yeah....

France coughed, once again gaining everyones attention. "Since there seems to be someone who opposes to my idea, I call for a vote!" he announced. "Everyone who wishes to participate in this amazing chance to find their perfect match, please raise your hands now!"

Everyone in the room, save England, raised their hands.

"That settles it then! Everyone, please bring out your laptops and check your e-mails. I have sent a link to everyone with a test for you to take! After the test is complete, we will go through the results and I will tell you what to do!"

Reluctantly, England sat back down and pulled out his computer, opening this "highly important" message.

_semeuke . com_

England quirked an eyebrow. What the hell did that mean? Apparently, he wasn't the only one who didn't know, for a shrill voice sounded across the room.

"Ve, France~? Whats a semeuke~~?"

Germany started coughing, but France smiled knowingly.

"You'll see," he said in his usual sing-song voice.

England bit his lip in irritation. Judging from the smirk France was sporting, it must be something... _adult. _He decided that he would find out later and glanced down at the first question.

"_Do you enjoy licking things?"_

He chocked on thin air. What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean? Looking over the alternatives, he opted for _"What the hells wrong with you?"_ If nothing else, it expressed what he was feeling towards France at the moment.

"_Have you ever bought hair dye for yourself?"_

Again, an easy question. He quickly clicked _"It's not really my thing."_

"_Have you ever tied someone up?"_

A bright flush coloured his cheeks as realization dawned on him. They ment it in... _that _way, didn't they? But he had never been in that situation before... Although, there was an option which read _"Hides rope-burned wrists."_ It seemed the most suitable, considering the fact that he actually had... markings... on his wrists and would never dream of tying someone up. It wouldn't be gentlemanly! Besides, all the other options were either different forms of "yes" or just random freak-outs.

"_Have you ever been tied up?"_

Er... he didn't really want to answer that... Was France keeping tabs on everyones answers? That bloody git America had tied him up last week and he _still _had the damn burns on his wrists, hence the notation a few moments ago. But they where there for an entirely different reason then for the one _hinted at_ in the question. Or the answers. Still though... it seemed like his best option. So he clicked the same answer he had for the previous question. _"Hides rope-burned wrists."_

"_What kind of shoes do you wear?"_

England huffed at the question, quickly selecting the _"dress shoes"_ option. Honestly... what else was there in this world?

"_Your weapon of choice?"_

Again an easy one. _"Rainbow power_" of course! It was the first things his magical friends had taught him when he had requested to learn how to learn supernatural powers. It hadn't been easy, but he had now mastered the technique perfectly!

"_Do you have any piercings?"_

He clicked the _"It looks like it would hurt *Squirms*",_ only because the other negative options ("_No, but... *gets hot thinking about partners piercings*"_ and something involving un-clipping earrings) where extremely indecent.

"_Alcohol"_

Arthur smirked as he answered that one. "_Yes, I'm drunk right now, thank you_." He wasn't _really _drunk at the moment, but if France kept annoying him, he'd be downing the drinks in a few hours.

"_How do you eat your ice cream?"_

What kind of a question was that? It was bloody obvious wasn't it? He pressed the "_Um... In a cone?"_ option, promptly ignoring the answers which involved eating it with or of someone else. Yuck, just think of the bacteria...

"_What gift would you give your partner?"_

This question was harder, mainly because he didn't actually _have _a partner. The only people he had ever given anything to were France, Japan and America, but they didn't count. Though _"Candy or Plushy"_ was a possible alternative and he _had _given sweets to America when he was a kid... He decided that it was his best option.

"_What's your ideal pet?"_

England's eyes shot up to make sure that no one was watching what he answered. Seeing no spies, he clicked _"A kitten, or anything cute." _No one would ever know.

"_How do you order at a restaurant?"_

He had to refrain from snorting out loud as he pressed _"Screw the food, give me the alcohol."_

"_The servers bring you the wrong food. What do you do?"_

Again, he clicked the answer which involved alcohol. _"Get drunk while waiting for them to bring my right order." _All this talk about drinks was making him thirsty...

"_You catch someone checking out your partner. What do you do?"_

What was with this quiz and it assuming you already had a partner? It was beyond irritating, so he promptly clicked _"Think about what I'm going to eat for dinner.__"_ There, no significant other involved in the anwer. Much better. He smirked triumphantly, glad at having beaten an internet-based personality test.

"_Your dream occupation?"_

He scanned over the answers, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he read one answer involving being in a band. He had recorder a cover of a popular Italian song along with America and a few of the other nations on a rare day off, and it had been fun. _Click._

"_What's your favorite accessory?"_

What kind of question was that? He didn't wear any bloody accessories! He was _England, _not some girl! _"My cat ears and tail,"_ he decided, hoping the damn quiz understood sarcasm.

"_What costume would you wear to a masquerade?"_

Again, he huffed. _"Just another means of public humiliation._" No way in hell he would dress up. Unless he wore his old pirate stuff, but that, sadly, wasn't an alternative. Wonder why...

"_What kind of music do you listen to?"_

This one was hard... He usually stuck to British rock and pop bands, but he couldn't chose both. England used to be dominated by rock, but pop had become much more popular in later years... He sighed, choosing _"pop"_ so he wouldn't seem _to _old. It was best to stay a little with the times. Not that anyone thought him as old or anything...

Ah, finally, the last question! Now he could get this damn thing over with and get back to the meeting!

"_Do you usually find yourself on top or bottom?"_

What... did they mean? One of the alternatives mentioned bunk-beds, but that didn't seem right.... The others included some kind of smirks.... was there something he was missing? Annoyed, he clicked the_ "You're trying to mock me, aren't you? *dark glare*"_ alternative. Damn test-makers trying to piss him off.

Finally the test had ended. Now he just had to wait for the result and–

"_You are an innocent uke!"_

A pictura of a small boy with cat ears eating sweets also apeared on the screan.

England blinked.

What. The. _Fuck_? Innocent? He had no idea what _uke _was, but in this context, it didn't seem all that manly. He looked up from the screen, noting that everyone seemed to be finishing up as well. France was dancing around the table, waiting for everyone to complete the tests. England decided that, for once, it would be best to follow the idiots example.

After a (boring) five minutes, everyone seemed to be finished.

"Now then," France sung in that _annoying _voice. "We should all tell each other what we got and see if we have any matches. Germany, why don't you tell us what you got!"

"Opportunist seme," he muttered, looking slightly uncomfortable. England had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but France smiled.

"Oh, our friend Germany scored the same as _moi! _You should feel honored!" He shifted his attention to the next nation. "What about you, America?"

"Romantic seme," he said, sounding somewhat confused. The Frenchman smiled broadly, popping out yet another rose from thin air.

"Who knew someone like you could be romantic?" he tossed the rose at the other blond. "Give this to your future uke, my dear! Russia, what about you?"

"Sadistic seme," he smiled, an unnerving aura settling around the seemingly pleased man. France gulped and quickly moved on.

"Japan, what did you get?"

"Chibi seme," he murmured, smiling lightly.

"Ah, very fitting. And Canada?"

"Who?" The room echoed, looking thoroughly confused. Canada coughed.

"Um, I've been here the entire time. And I got Clueless uke..."

An sadistic gleam shone in Frances eyes. "Really, how... convenient. And what about you, my dear Italy?"

"Ve~ ve~~. Clueless uke. Germany, what does that mean?"

"Seems you're with the right person then. According to the test, you and Germany make a perfect couple"

"But we already where that before this," the Italian murmured, sounding confused. Germany, who had remained silent, started coughing and looked very panic struck. France however, started chuckling.

"Ah, treat your little uke gently, we wouldn't want him getting hurt!" he then winked at the stoic man, who looked ready to punch the Frenchman in the face. England wished he had. France winke yet again and started going on about using the right type of _preperations_.

That was when it clicked. He blinked. How could have been so slow? It all fit together now! Frances smirk, Germany's reaction, the weird questions, the awkward answers...

Feeling slow wasn't the worst part though.

Because according to this bloody thing, he was submissive_!_

"France!" England called, ending the blonds conversation with Germany, "This... _thing _is all wrong!"

"What makes you say that, Iggy-dear?"

"_Don't call me that!_" He spat. "My result was all screwed up!"

"What makes you say that?"

"Because," he said slowly. "I got bloody innocent uke!"

A long silence followed, before France burst out laughing. This only angered the Brit further.

"It's not funny! And it's bloody _wrong! _If I'm to be subjected to this idiocy, then I demand an accurate test!"

France seemed to have collected himself somewhat as he straightened up. "Well then, now that we have everyones results, lets see how many matches we have!" The Frenchman turned away from the group and squiggled everyones names and results on the blackboard.

"So first we have the clueless ukes and the opportunist semes. Since Germany and Italy already seem to have paired up, that leaves me with Matthew."

"Who?"

"Canada," France clarified.

"Who?"

He continued, not bothering to answer their second question. "Then we have our innocentuke and Romantic seme, England and America! Again, a perfect match!" Arthur was about to make a comment about how he _wasn't _a uke, but paused as something red flashed across his vision.

A rose.

"Seems like this is for you then," America sung, dropping it in front of the Britt.

"Whatever," England huffed. And no, he was _not _blushing. Absolutely not.

"That just leaves Russia and Japan. Sorry guys, you're completely mismatched. You'll have to find someone else."

Japan nodded in understanding and Russia smiled.

"It's okay, da. I have a hole bunch of people at home, chained in my basement, da." And there came smile so sweet you'd think he'd just been talking about puppies, rainbows and flowers.

A very, _very _awkward silence followed.

Russia smiled.

Someone coughed. Every one seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"Right then," England muttered, putting the rose aside. "Now that's over, we can get back to the meeting."

"Oh no you don't!" France interrupted. "Today is valentines day! No meetings! The point of this was to find dates for everyone!"

"Dates?" England managed to choke out.

"Well of course! Why else would I send out these tests to everyone? I shall take you to one of my restaurants. Well, five of you. Japan and Russia, would you mind if the meeting ends now?" France didn't give them a chance to answer before springing of to another topic. "Don't worry about the money, I'll pay for you all! Come on now!"

"But the _global economic cris–_"

"Come on Iggy, won't it be awesome? It was ages ago we did something together!"

"Don't. Call. Me. Iggy – Agh!"

It was at that moment that a strong pair of arms wrapped around the Englishman and he was pulled, kicking and screaming, out of the room.

All Russia and Japan could do was stare after them, though the formers expression held a very evil smirk.

-

"Ya' know," England slurred, downing another swig of wine. "Th's seems vaguely f'miliar."

"Oh?" the American muttered. "In what way?"

"Dunno... Just remember thinking 'bout drinking whilst going out with-a partner earlier..."

"Maybe you should stop drinking now?" America suggested, gesturing towards the _extremely expensive _bottles of wine that the Briton had been inhaling like air.

"... ...Why?" The reply was delayed, as if Arthur had needed to think hard to come up with a suitable response.

"You don't want to forget about our first date with me in the morning, do you?" Alfred smirked, leaning forward. England frowned.

"'S not a date."

"How so?" Although he preferred answering questions rather then asking them, America had to admit that watching the normally uptight England with his guard down was fun.

"'Cause..." Arthur's eyebrows knotted together, desperately trying to think of a reason in his fogged mind. "'Cause then you'd be acting all lovy-dovy 'n stuff."

"And you want me to do that?"

The question seemed to clear the Britons mind, if only for a moment, trying to figure out if the man was being serious or not. To England, what he wanted to happen was about as easy to chose as the pet question on that semeuke-thingy. To bad he couldn't stay clear enough to work out if America was joking. He didn't want to end up making a fool of himself.

Oh, to hell with it! He could just blame it on his drunkenness if he had to.

"What if I-do," Arthur smirked, mimicking the Americans actions and shortening the distance between them.

"Then I must be a good host and treat my date appropriately," America informed him brightly.

"An' wha' would that be?" The last glasses of alcohol must have been getting into his system, because his speech was getting even more slurred by the minute.

"Oh, I don't know? What do you want, my sweet?" America sung, seeing how far he could push his role as "host" now that England seemed to be _willing_ to be toyed with.

England didn't answer, he simply leaned across the table, getting even closer to the American. Somewhere, he could feel something in his mind telling him to stop while he still could, but he was to intoxicated to listen.

A tanned finger reached up, stroking the Britt across his flushed cheek. "Ngh..." England leaned into the touch, eyes half lidded.

America smiled, letting his finger drop lower, caressing the blonds neck.

"Like this?"

"Nh.. 'Merica?"

"Yes?"

"France 's gropin' ya brotha'" England informed him, having peered over at the other table. The notion brought Americas actions to a halt. He didn't want to get caught up in something akward.

"Maybe we should go then... leave them to it and stuff." America pulled back and rose from his seat, waiting for the other nation to do the same. England stared up at him with unfocused eyes.

"'Merica?"

"Yes?"

"Can't get up" he grumbled, sounding angry with himself. America extended a hand and the Briton took it quickly, though fumbled slightly. As soon as he was pulled to his feet, he slumped forward, leaving Alfred to carry up his weight.

Had America always been this warm?

"Hey, are you feeling okay?"

"Bloody brilliant," he muttered, hanging on to the others broad shoulders fore dear life.

"Maybe it's time your host took you home?" America suggested, feeling much clearer now that he was standing.

"No... I wanna stay out," England wined, sounding like a small child wanting to stay up past seven o'clock.

"Come now, I don't want you passing out on me in the streets," the other sighed, leading the other out of the restaurant. Arthur clinged to the other mans jacket, the sweet scent of the others skin tickling his nostrils.

"Hey, 'Merica... you smell," England informed him, letting himself get lead wherever Alfred was taking him. Alfred seemed didn't seem to pleased by the comment.

"What? What of? Sweat?"

"Don' worry, you smell nice," he reassure. "Like... I'unno, nice stuff."

"Oh... okay. Thanks, I guess."

A comfortable silence fell between the two as they stumbled along through the half-lit street. America wasn't sure how to find his way around this part of town, so thought it best to find a suitable motel for the Brit to sober up in.

"Hey Alfred," England muttered, tugging at the others jacket. "My body feels all warm."

America froze, staring at his companion with wide eyes. He hadn't called him by name since before _that time_, when they still considored each other brothers.

England eyed his seemingly dazed companion, not really waiting for a reply. Trying to figure out where the heat came from, his mind kept flashing back to the others gentle touch in the restaurant. Could a mare touch really do that to someone? Could it be Alfred's skin that made him feel warm?

Clumsy fingers stretched up, hastily stroking across Americas tanned face.

"England?"

"Shh," the Britt instructed. "I'm testin' somethin'."

For the first time in about five hundred years, America actually listened to him and stood still. Arthur's fingers continued their adventure, exploring the others cheeks. It must have made a strange sight, but he was way beyond caring about public appearances.

The tip of his pale digit brushed across the others lips, bringing a muffled gasp from the American.

"Alfred," England breathed, but he wasn't sure why he was addressing the other; he already had his full attention and he didn't have anything to say. Cautiously, he repeated the action of his finger, gaining the same result.

More pressure was applied to the Americans shoulder, forcing his face down to the same level as the Britons. Swift, heavy breaths brushed across Alfred's face, the scent of alcohol and something else... – mint tea maybe? – lingered in the air.

"Arthur?" America whispered, following the others example of human names. The Briton ignored him, leaning closer.

"I don't think this is a good idea Arthur," the American pressed. "You're drunk and I don't want to take advantage – hmph!"

He was quickly silenced by England's lips. It probably didn't qualify as an actual kiss, only brief contact of flesh against flesh and the sheer sloppiness of it all deduced any points they could have been given for style, but neither of them where complaining.

England pulled back, a cocky, drunken smirk plastered across his face. "Whose the uke now?"

"Arthur," America said sternly. "You are drunk out of your skull and I am not going to take advantage of someone who has no idea of what they're doing."

"Your the one who doesn't know what their doin'!" the other grumbled, the smile slowly slipping into a frown.

"What do you mean?"

"You're the one who keeps toyin' with me. Smile and tease and pretend that you don' notice wha' you're doin' to me."

"I really don't understand what you are trying to say."

"You just act all clueless. I keep tryin' to push you away, 'cause it hurts to be aroun' you when you act like nothing happened back then." He looked up at the American, his grip tightening on the others jacket.

America was worried that the Briton was about to go on another "why-did-you-leave-me-after-the-war-rant", but let him continue nevertheless, knowing he needed to get it out of his system. Damn, he really hated these bi-polar mood-switches.

"But I don' wan' things back to the way they where." He paused, casting his eyes down. He had lost his train of thought and was unable to pick it back up. Arthur breathed in, trying not to choke. "I just... wan' you to only pay attention to me... I wan' you to hold me close..." he trailed of, the unfamiliar feeling of something hot trailing down his now crimson stained cheeks.

A soft touch brushed the tears away. England tried to pull away, but something warm surrounded his entire being, embracing him tightly.

"Idiot," America muttered. "This better not be one of your drunken episodes again, because I won't be pleased if you regret this later."

Before England could register what he meant, hungry lips crashed down on his, prying them open.

"Ngh... Al...fre..d"

He was much more forceful that Arthur had been, more skilled perhaps. Or just talented. England wasn't quite sure what was going on at that point. He couldn't remember being pressed to the ground, but America was suddenly sitting on top of him, keeping him pressed against the concrete pavement whilst straddling his hips with one hand and digging into his hair with the other.

Gasping for air, they pulled apart, staring deep into each others eyes. This was really it, there was no turning back now. Even in his drunk, hazed mind, Arthur knew that their was no way things could go back to how they had been before.

Though if this was what would happen instead, he wouldn't be complaining.

"Whose the uke now?" America smirked, mimicking Arthur's words from earlier. "Seriously though, we need to thank France later." He tried to keep his voice steady, but the heavy panting leaked into his speach.

"Nh... Alfred?"

"Yes?"

"I think I'm going to be sick..."

After saying that, England killed any remaining hopes of retaining the mood by turning away and vomiting on the pavement.

-

He was flying. No, drifting more like. Softly, through clouds, his skin covered with the most comforting warmth. It was amazing. The delicate smells that lingered in the air, the gentle tickle the wind was giving his skin... He wanted to savor the feeling, stay like this forever...

"–thur! Arthur! Can you hear me? Wake up~"

To bad that something like that could never happen. Reluctantly, he forced his eyes open and was met with the sight of a grinning America.

"What are you doing here? Get out of my house, you bloody git," he muttered, attempting to pull the cover over his head. The American frowned at this.

"We're not in your house and that's no way to speak to your _boyfriend,_" America tsked, pulling the others arm. "Come now, drink this. I bet your head hurts like hell at the moment."

"My boyfriend... wha...?" He glanced down and noted, to his horror, that he was very naked. Arthur quickly reached for the covers in an attempt to retain his dignity. His head then snapped back up to Alfred, who was holding out a glass of water and a bright pink pill. He began to run through the events of the previous day, recalling the details... France's stupid test.... flirting in the restaurant... being walked home... making out in the middle of the street... his memory stopped there.

This was bad. Very, very bad. Or good, depending on how he looked at it. He had acted like a drunkard the previous evening and clung to America like a child would to a stuffed toy, though Alfred didn't seem to mind. Then... Oh god, anyone could have walked past them! Anyone could have _seen _them!

He asked the most important question before his brain exploded or something equally unpleasant happened.

"Al... how far did we... er... _go _last night?"

"Hm? Oh, we came back here and had some mind blowing, epically awesome bondage sex!" America announced happily.

Insert deer-in-headlights look here. Oh god, was that true? But... he could move? Wasn't it supposed to be, er... _painful_? Oh god, he'd never see his unicorns again!(1)

At the others panic-struck expression, America stroked his shoulder.

"Hey, I'm just kidding! A true hero would never take advantage like that! You just felt very... er... _hot _and decided to give me a striptease before we went to bed."

Arthur didn't know whether to be relieved or mortified. He settled for pissed.

"Alfred?"

"Yes, Iggy-dear?"

"You are an idiotic, bloody git."

America decided that he deserved the cold shower he received, and promptly went to fetch his _dearest _another glass of water to sooth his headache.

-

((Hides in corner)) I suck at romance -.-'' I hope it didn't turn out to bad.. Please let me know what you thought, constructive criticism is always welcome :)

(1) Unicorns only visit virgins... In case you didn't know :P


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